A faint cry echoed through the room. The sound of a newborn.
In a dimly lit room,Lady Selene cradled the small bundle in her arms, her smile softening as her eyes met his tiny face. The baby's cries quieted as she gently rocked him, humming a soothing tune. The warmth of the moment filled her heart, though a lingering sense of unease remained just beneath the surface.
"He's perfect," she whispered, brushing her hand through the baby's dark blue hair.
But there was something in his eyes, even as a newborn—something beyond his years, as though the soul inside him had already seen too much.
The Kingdom of Grox was always quiet at dawn. The towering walls surrounding the estate gleamed in the soft morning light, casting long shadows over the city below. Beyond the fortress, the capital stretched toward the horizon, slowly awakening as the first signs of life stirred. Yet, in the heart of one of the kingdom's noble houses, a boy no older than one stood alone by a window, his gaze far too mature for his age.
Kateku Grox.
Born into the seventh noble house of the Grox lineage, Kateku had always been different. While other infants were just learning to crawl, Kateku was already speaking in full sentences. By his first birthday, he had outpaced his tutors in intellect. Now, at just one year old, he grasped the intricacies of the realm's politics better than most adults.
Yet, for all his brilliance, there was a gnawing sense of displacement deep within him. He was from another world, a world of tall skyscrapers, paved streets, and a sun that felt somehow different. He was from a place called South Africa, though the memories were hazy now, distant like a dream fading with the morning light.
His mother, Lady Selene, often watched him from afar, her eyes clouded with both pride and unease. Kateku was more than intelligent—he was distant, detached from the world around him, as though part of his mind still lingered in that other life, grasping for fragments of a reality that no longer existed.
"Kateku," she called softly from the doorway, breaking the stillness.
He turned, the morning light catching in his dark blue hair. His piercing eyes, the color of the sea after a storm, met hers unflinchingly. "Yes, Mother?"
"You shouldn't spend so much time alone," she said, stepping towards him. "You're still a child. Go outside, play with the others."
Kateku's gaze drifted back to the horizon, where the spires of the capital rose like silent sentinels, the royal palace looming at its center.
The Grox name carries weight. He had heard that phrase countless times. His family wielded great power, and with power came expectations. Expectations that suffocated.
"I don't fit in with them," he said after a pause, his voice calm but resolute.
Lady Selene sighed, kneeling so her face was level with his. "You're special, Kateku. But you don't need to bear the weight of the world on your shoulders. Not yet."
His eyes searched hers, but his expression remained unreadable. "I know."
The truth was, Kateku felt out of place not just among the other children, but in this world itself. He remembered things—vivid flashes of another life. The way the warm sun had felt on his skin as he ran through the streets of Johannesburg, the distant hum of traffic, the scent of the sea when he visited Durban. But here, in Grox, everything was different. He wasn't sure how or why he had ended up in this body, in this world, but the feeling of disconnection was constant.
Still, he knew one thing for certain: the kingdom was on the brink of something. He saw it in the furtive whispers of the servants, in the way his father, Lord Grox, had been away more often than usual, locked in secretive meetings with the emperor. Something was coming, and Kateku felt he would be drawn into it.
"I'll go outside," he said suddenly. "But not to play."
Lady Selene smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Just... try to enjoy being a child while you still can."
As Kateku stepped into the courtyard, the familiar sights and sounds of the estate surrounded him—the bustling maids, the gardeners tending to the grounds, the guards standing at attention. Everyone knew who he was. The boy genius of the Grox family. Some regarded him with admiration, others with quiet curiosity. None dared speak unless addressed first.
But he ignored them all. His thoughts drifted elsewhere, back to the forest beyond the estate's towering walls. His mother's words lingered—enjoy being a child—but it was too late. His childhood had ended the moment he had opened his eyes in this world.
The memories of his past life as a boy in South Africa, though distant, were still there. Was this a second chance? He didn't know. But one thing was clear: he wasn't like the other noble children. He was something else, something bound to the fate of this kingdom.
The wind stirred, rustling the leaves as he made his way toward the training grounds. Here, he could be alone. Alone with his thoughts and with the weight of the one question that haunted him.
What does it truly mean to be a Grox?
And more importantly, What does it mean to be Kateku Grox, born twice?